


Excuses

by SoupyGoopy



Series: Amicide [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, F/F, Sexual Content, sexy times but sorta not really lol, yall know the drill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26541397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoupyGoopy/pseuds/SoupyGoopy
Summary: But Violet and Clementine can't avoid them forever.
Relationships: Clementine/Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running), a lil of clem/louis, a smaller lil of vi/minnie
Series: Amicide [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930000
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	Excuses

**Author's Note:**

> i decided to make a part two to Procrastination because Violet's cool :)
> 
> thanks for reading, i hope yall like it!

Violet groaned as her head hit the door, the rattling of frames becoming mere background noise to the blood pumping in her ears and the hot hands on her hips slipping underneath her shirt. It was dizzying and disorienting in the best way, but only because made her forget her aching heart and bone crushing guilt.

“That fucking hurt, asshole,” Violet rasped, gasping at the nip on her pulse. 

Probably wouldn’t hurt as much as Louis finding out her best friend is in love with his girlfriend. 

Clementine muttered a small sorry before she reconnected her lips to Violet’s and whimpered at the sharp fang that broke soft skin, the tang of copper suddenly being added to the taste of cheap mixer and liquor. Violet soothed the sting with a swipe of her tongue and flipped them over, pushing her knee up in between Clementine’s thighs, pinning her wrists to the door, and smirking when a loud mewl slipped from her lips. 

“F – Fuck.”

Violet kissed down her jaw and felt a primal sense of joy when Clementine exposed her neck for her, immediately sucking on a spot below her ear that made Clementine whimper and grind on her knee.

“Vi . . . d - don’t leave any marks.”

Same whine, different day.

She rolled her eyes but that didn’t stop the shot of shame that went up her spine as she moved up and down Clementine’s throat, making sure that each area of skin her lips touched was not left unscathed, drinking in each and every moan like it was going to be her last.

She really hoped it was going to be her last.

A weight sank her heart to her feet as she kissed Clementine. 

What the absolute fuck was she doing here again. 

She dropped her hands from Clementine’s wrists to her waist and felt Clementine pant into her mouth.

It all meant nothing.

Her hands pushed against Violet’s shoulders and they stumbled towards the bed, the back of Violet’s knees just barely having hit the edge before Clementine’s hands started to fumble with the bottom of Violet’s shirt.

This _should_ remind her painfully of Minnie.

She threw her shirt to some unknown corner of the room and yelped as Clementine pushed her onto the bed. 

Her heart shouldn’t feel this heavy. 

She squirmed up higher onto the bed and propped herself up on her forearms as Clementine undid her pants. She watched dazed and clumsily kicked off her shoes, giggling when Clementine complained that one of them hit her. Lifting her hips, Violet cleared her throat.

“You’re such a baby.”

Clementine looked up at her with a smile and stuck her tongue out childishly, “Shut up.”

Her heart unwillingly warmed and she sat up, the wetness in her boxers making them uncomfortably stick to her thighs. A different want thrummed in her body as she gently pulled Clementine down by the collar.

It could’ve just been the alcohol that warmed her blood and made her chest ache.

She savored the kiss, slowly threading her fingers through the baby hairs on the back of Clementine’s neck.

Fuck, she’s an awful person, isn’t she?

She grabbed Clementine’s shirt and pulled it off. 

Does she think about Louis? 

Clementine stood to take off her pants and gracelessly hopped about with the fabric collected at her knees when she realized she forgot to take off her sneakers, little huffs of disoriented grunts breaking the tense silence. Violet watched amusedly before a sharp throb from between her legs broke her patience.

“Oh my god, Clementine, come here,” Violet giggled and slid off the bed on to her knees while Clementine hesitantly shuffled over. 

The floor spun and her fingers slipped over the thin laces, but regardless, she managed to untie them and unsteadily rose to her feet. Clementine silently took off her shoes and pants, an unsettlingly awkward sense of awareness suddenly permeating the hot air. 

They said _it_ would only be a one-time thing. That _it_ was just the drugs, or the booze, or the fact that their significant others weren’t there to relieve them. 

Violet rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly and refused to acknowledge the nauseating spin of the room.

God, how many times has _it_ happened now?

“ . . . I think we should definitely talk after this,” Violet’s tongue was too big for her mouth and she probably tripped over some words but she didn’t care. It was finally out, filling the void with stone cold dread and a tiring sense of relief that made her fingertips tingle with anxiety. 

Maybe, just maybe, Louis would be able to stomach the sight of her. 

Clementine looked up at her, the spark of shock in her eyes mixed with a weird emptiness she related to an awful lot. It reminded her of the day after _it_ happens. 

“Yeah, we really do.”

No, it reminded her of dead, heavy, and grueling guilt. 

They were going to lose all of their friends. 

Clementine gingerly cupped her face as if she was petting a scared puppy. Brown eyes boring into green, she kissed her. And in a way, it made her feel so much worse. 

All of it was so wrong. They weren’t ever supposed to want. They weren’t ever supposed to crave. They weren’t ever supposed to care. 

It was too tender, too loving, too giving, too promising, too fucking close and suffocating and scary and everything is fucking crumbling apart and Violet wanted to tear into every fucking seam that they had painstakingly pushed the needle into and – 

“Hey.” Clementine tapped her cheek with her thumb, “We are going to fine. I promise.”

She could hear and feel and smell and touch and taste the slimy, sticky, wriggling, putrid, gunky lie coating her slow alcohol ridden brain and it fucking stuck like fresh pink gum on a shoe. Like an old, itchy, tight snake skin that was getting rolled back onto her stupid body. Like an old molt she was crawling her pathetic soft flesh back into. Like a sheen of crude oil. 

But for now, she wouldn’t comment on it. 

None of it. 

Because this was going to be the _last_ time. 

And then she’d go back to being Louis’ bestest friend. And to being Minnie’s loving girlfriend. 

Clementine kissed her again and waddled her backwards to the mattress, this time letting herself fall with Violet on the bed, scrambling to straddle pale thighs, a strangled moan escaping her lips at the delicious pressure when Clementine grinded down. 

But _fuck_ , why did it have to feel _so_. _Fucking_. _Good_.


End file.
